


Our Four Letter Word

by J (j_writes)



Category: Easy Allies RPF
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 05:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8477290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_writes/pseuds/J
Summary: They half smile, almost sadly, as they say, “You look…kind of like shit.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> [fictional characters based on the internet personas of actual people, doing entirely fictional things.]

He’s not looking for anything in particular as he makes his way into the garage, just following the trail of games out from the driveway, but when he reaches the doorway, there’s Ian, standing in the low light, looking between two games in their hands like it’s the most difficult decision they've ever made.

“Take ‘em both,” Mike offers, and Ian looks up, not quite smiling.

“Yeah,” they say vaguely, weighing the cases in their hands. "I guess.“ They set them both onto the small pile they're building at the corner of the table, and turn to look Mike over, taking in the sight of him, tired and uncertain in a coat that’s too big – that might have been Brad’s at one point, he can’t even remember - and they half smile, almost sadly, as they say, “You look…kind of like shit.”

Mike laughs, too loud in the quiet garage, but it feels nice, familiar in a week when everything else had been strange and uncomfortable. "Yeah,“ he agrees. "You…” he wants to return the insult, but Ian looks nothing but beautiful, hair in their eyes, nails chipping but still brightly colored, and Mike can’t finish, not even jokingly. "You don’t.“

Ian smiles appreciatively, brushing their hair back, and they look up at the sound of Kyle’s laughter from the driveway, Ben’s voice raised in some sort of objection. Their eyes shift back to Mike, looking almost guilty as they say, “I wasn’t sure I’d miss it, you know?”

Mike nods. “Yeah,” he says. “I get that.” He pauses. “Well, no,” he admits, sliding up beside Ian to poke through the games in front of them. “I don’t really get that.”

Ian laughs next to him, low and quiet. “Yeah,” they agree. “Didn’t think you would.”

“You do, though,” Mike presses. “Miss it?”

“Yeah,” Ian says with feeling, eyes going to the window, to Brad and Blair having some kind of earnest conversation on the other side of it. "I really do.“

"Good,” Mike replies. He leans to knock his shoulder against Ian’s, and when he peeks over, Ian’s smiling at him with less sadness in their expression than before.

“We should stream some more,” Mike offers, instead of what he wants to say, instead of _I just want to hug you until you smile for real_ , or _come home with me_ , or _promise you’re not going anywhere, okay?_ “You know, for now. Until - ” he waves a hand, indicating Jones, all of them together. 

“Yeah,” Ian agrees. “We definitely should.” And when they leave that night, splitting up at the end of the driveway, Ian’s “Text me, okay?” Sounds an awful lot like _I want to hug you back_ , or _let me come home with you_ , or _I promise, I’m not going anywhere_.


End file.
